


After All These Years

by Earlgreyer, ponticle



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Letters, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Roleplay, Secret Relationship, Unrequited Love, published role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 02:49:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10607733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earlgreyer/pseuds/Earlgreyer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponticle/pseuds/ponticle
Summary: Alistair has been secretly holding a torch for Zevran for the last 10 years, although they haven't seen each other since the Blight. Now, as Guildmaster of the Crows, Zevran sends Alistair a curious letter. Could things be about to change?OR... What happens when you take a Ferelden King, a decade, a huge crush, an assassination plot, and an Antivan Crow and shake vigorously.---------EarlGreyerwrites for Zevran andPonticlewrites for Alistair. This entire work is written in letters, where the action between segments is inferred.We hope you love it!:)World State: Zevran and the HoF were in a relationship until she sacrificed herself to end the Blight. He spent the next decade running the Crows. Meanwhile, Alistair has ruled jointly with Anora. This entire story takes place against the backdrop of DAI.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The E rating is only representative of four letters, but they are _rather_ spicy... :)

 

* * *

 

Alistair,

 

I have received a contract this morning.  You may wonder why I am writing to you regarding this.  It is, of course, nothing out of the ordinary in my line of work.  We accept new contracts every day.  But this one you will find exceptionally interesting.  There is a group in Ferelden who want you dead.  Of course, you say.  I am the King of Ferelden.  Many people want me dead for many reasons.  And this is true, but none are as smart or well coordinated as this one appears to be. 

Normally, this contract would have been accepted immediately.  However, given our history as traveling companions, and a very real fear of retribution by the spirit of my beautiful Elissa, I felt the need to warn you first.  Elissa always had a soft spot in her bosom for you.  Quite an ample bosom it was, too.  Pillowy soft.   

I have successfully delayed accepting this contract, as there is a great deal going on with the chaos of the breach, and our surreptitious aide to another well known, powerful woman in Thedas.  I have no doubt she would also attempt to kill me if I let harm come to you.  If anyone could accomplish that, it would be our beautiful Sister Nightingale. 

I may have to accept this contract, but should that come to pass, I will not put it out for bid in the usual manner.  I will take it myself to give you ample time to prepare, and will learn what I can of the members of this secret faction.  If I can determine who is backing them, perhaps we can stop this before it comes to your death.

Should you wish to reply, leave your correspondence in the place where you found this letter.  One of my operatives will find it and ensure that it is delivered directly to me. 

You and I have never been close, Alistair.  But we have been friendly, and I know you and Elissa had a bond.  I warn you of this plot to honor her memory, and our past adventures together.  Be well, Alistair.

 

Z

 

* * *

 

 

 ~~Dear Zevran~~ ,

 

Z,

 

I was incredibly surprised to hear from you. Obviously, the _content_ of your letter was _more_ surprising. Thanks for the heads-up… _I guess_?

Nevertheless, it’s good to see that you’re alive and well. I think of you often—it doesn’t help that Elissa’s statue _glares_ at me through my bedroom window. I know it’s there to honor her—Maker knows she deserves it—but it feels like a constant reminder of everything we lost… of what we gave up…

I guess the question now is how we move _forward_ from here. The crows are coming for me, apparently— _you’re_ coming for me—and we _both_ know how likely failure is. I’m as good as dead.

 

So since I’m going to _die_ , there are a few things I need to say:

I’m sorry for your loss. I never got a chance to tell you… I was grieving too, of course, but that doesn’t excuse it. I know what she meant to you—I could see it every time you looked at her. ~~It hurt—viscerally~~.

In the last decade, I’ve wondered about you a lot. ~~Even more than I think about Elissa.~~ I hear about the Crow’s movements from time to time. Sometimes, I think I can see your hand in it. You have a recognizable way of getting things done—a bloody one, usually, but it _works_. When I think about the way we left things, I regret not telling you how much I admire you. You have such _finesse_.

All of this is not to say that I _want_ to die—I’m not accepting that fate yet—but it does seem rather bleak, doesn’t it? If you find anything new, please contact me as soon as possible.

 

~~Yours,~~

~~Alistair~~

~~Sincerely,~~

~~King Alistair Theirin~~

A.

 

* * *

 

Alistair,

 

I thank you for your condolences, which are never too late.  The sentiment is truly appreciated.

In truth, I am quite surprised to hear that you think of me at all.  But I suppose that it is difficult to avoid with Elissa’s lovely visage to remind you daily of our adventures.  There is not a day that goes by where I do not think of her, or what our lives might have been if she had agreed to Morrigan’s proposal.  Although that might have made things a bit awkward for you as King.  There are days I curse her for her damned moral code.  But without it _I_ would likely have been dead, killed by her own sweet hand at the crossroads where we first met.  I believe you were in favor of that option, were you not?  Such irony, that you say you admire me for the ruthless tactics that you so hated me for back then.  But I do try to add a bit of flare to it when appropriate, and it is always nice to have one’s work appreciated.  

I regret to tell you that I was forced to accept the contract.  There was no way to avoid it.  the money offered is quite a large sum, and certain groups here would prefer to have Queen Anora on the throne.  I believe making Anora sole ruler of Ferelden is the motivation behind the plot to have you killed.  My investigations have determined that the plot originates in Denerim, but more I am not able to say at this time.  I am confident that I will uncover the source of the contract soon.  Until then, watch your back and trust no one.

Stay safe Alistair.

 

Z

 

* * *

 

 

Z,

 

After your last letter, I feel the need to defend myself. I _was_ in favor of your death at the time. I was young and scared and running around all over the countryside in constant fear of my life—not so unlike my _current_ predicament. It’s very hard to know who is on my side now and it was _doubly_ true then.

In any case, I _regret_ that. Once you joined us… I could see how valuable you were— _are_. Certainly, you were important to Elissa… ~~much to my chagrin~~.

More to the point… I can’t _believe_ someone in my own kingdom would be behind this. For what _possible_ reason would someone want me dead? It isn’t as if anything has recently changed. I’ve been doing this cursed job for a _decade_. Maker knows, I don’t relish it, but I have gotten pretty _good_ at it.

I haven’t even done anything particularly controversial lately, unless you count that mage situation… I’m sure you heard that I let the mages take refuge here. They made a huge mess of everything and eventually the Inquisitor had to come fix it. A bit _embarrassing_ , certainly, but not anything that should warrant my _death_.

How do we keep getting into these situations? Death follows us everywhere we go. My parents, my brother, Elissa… countless others in our time traveling together. I guess it’s something we _share_ —ever-present danger, sweeping carnage... pervasive doom.

So I guess the next time I see you—it might be the last. I don’t relish the idea of being on the opposite side of this. ~~I feel like we’re running out of options. If we don’t find a loophole soon… would you really _kill_ me?~~ But don’t worry, Zevran—the years have made me brave. If we _must_ come face to face, I can handle myself… ~~even with _you_~~.

 

A

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair,

 

I am sorry for the delay in getting you this information, but I am sure you can appreciate my precarious position.  If it were discovered that I accepted a contract and had no plan to fulfill it, well, I’m sure you see how that would go. 

I _am_ coming to Denerim, but not for the reason you think, so do not worry.  Well, maybe a little bit for the reason you think.  But there is still no need to concern yourself.  I must be there to uncover the full extent of the plans.  I find it is always better to grease the necessary palms in person.  And there is a certain tavern I have been wanting to revisit, if just to remind me of younger days, although none of the familiar faces will be there this time.  Perhaps I might find willing participants to help me reenact a certain evening.  Do you recall the one?  Ah, but you were not there.  A shame really.  But you would not have approved, I think.  Too bad, really.

I will contact you once I arrive and we can determine where to meet.  Be safe Alistair.

 

Z

 

* * *

  

Z,

 

I have no idea why I’m even writing this letter. It is _definitely_ not going to reach you before you arrive here. For all _I_ know, you could be breaching the gates outside as we speak. I keep idiotically watching the horizon for signs of horses—not that you’d be that obvious, I suppose.

I can’t _believe_ you’re coming here. Seeing you after all this time is going to be—

 

[something illegible]

 

I know I’m going to _feel_ it—in some vague, _nauseating_ way. It’s the way I always felt when I saw you and Elissa together. I don’t think you ever knew… but _she_ did. Do you know what she said to me when she left me at Denerim’s gates? She told me I should _live_ —we _both_ should. I pretended not to know what she meant… but I _did_ —I still do. I hate to look at her statue even more now—since we’ve been corresponding—than I used to because I’m not doing what she asked. Every day that I don’t reach out—every day that I’m not honest about what I really felt—I feel like I’m disappointing her.

I’m sure you have no idea.

 _And_ I’m sure I’m going to throw this letter into the fire as soon as I’m done… so what’s the _point_ of evasion?

From the minute I realized you _weren’t_ going to kill us, I was _crazy_ about you. I almost worked up the courage to tell you one night around the campfire. You were telling stories about your childhood. I heard the _anguish_ in your voice and I remembered that pain: the pain of a childhood spent _unwanted_. Before I found my voice, though, Elissa found _hers_ … and we started down this path that separated us forever.

Until now. You’re almost _here_. I can’t stay quiet—I’m a grown man… surely…

 

[rest of the page charred and illegible]

 

* * *

 

A,

 

I am staying at the tavern I mentioned in my last letter. I suppose it is seedy enough to allow me to move unnoticed, while still overhearing the local gossip.  The wine is not too terrible and the ale only marginally less awful.  Fereldens.  Do none of you know how to cook? 

I will be here tonight should you care to join me.  It might be best to wear a disguise.  Perhaps you will pretend to be my rich lover, meeting me in secret.  We could exchange looks of longing and whisper with our heads close.  I promise I will not try to kiss you unless it is absolutely necessary.  Or you ask nicely.  I will even allow you to buy me some mediocre wine and palatable dinner, or in other words, the best this tavern has to offer.  And we will order cheese.  I seem to recall that you enjoy that.  We should reserve the back room and I will tell you what I have learned. 

Surprisingly, I am looking forward to seeing you again, Alistair, despite your dislike of me.  I did not think this would be the case.  I wonder how you have aged.  Well, I hope.  You were always an attractive person.  Not as attractive as I, but so few are.

Should you choose not to come I will, of course, understand.  This is quite short notice and a man of your position might have obligations which require attention.  I will manage to amuse myself somehow.  There are a few pretty faces here who might wish to pass the time in my enjoyable company.  However, we should meet soon.  I leave it up to you to decide when.

 

As ever,

 

Z

 

* * *

 

~~Zevran,~~

~~I keep thinking about last night. All of it, really… but one thing in particular: you touched my arm… in this _way_ … it felt like you were touching some small part of myself I’ve been forever afraid to acknowledge. For a split second, I thought it _meant_ something. I know you were pretty drunk… but still… I _felt_ it.~~

~~That thing you said about aging… I’m not sure what _I_ look like to you, but _you_ look just the same to me. _Perfect_.~~

 

_Great. Another letter I won’t be able to send. Fantastic. Let’s begin again:_

 

[New, fresh page]

 

Z,

 

Thank you for taking the time to meet with me last night. I appreciate that it was not easy for you to come here, particularly considering the inherent danger in such a trip. I hope that the way I set the whole thing up was discrete enough for you. I haven’t worn a disguise in ages. It’s not exactly part of my job description… no one says, “Okay, King—sneak into that tavern!” It’s all _speeches_ and _waving_ and kissing babies.

I have to say, I’m rather disturbed by what you told me. I wouldn’t have believed that someone in my inner circle was capable of this without the proof you provided. If only I knew how to trace those communications. Clearly, the penmanship wasn’t the perpetrator's—that would be too obvious. I’m going to keep my eyes and ears open for any sign of danger.

And I _heard_ what you said—that this is a time to trust sparingly. I’m taking that to _heart_.

I assume you’re gone now. I thought about visiting the tavern again this morning to see if you needed anything else before you left—but I doubt you waited for the sun to rise. To be honest, I’d feel safer if you were nearby. I know it’s a mad thing to think and an even _more_ insane thing to _say_ , considering you’re tasked with my murder, but it’s true. I’m trying this new thing… where I tell the truth sometimes. You’ve probably never tried it, but it is sort of a relief. Let me know if you experiment.

Looking forward to our next meeting—despite the circumstances. I know you can’t nail down a date yet… but please let me know as soon as you can. I think we should meet somewhere a little more remote. I can set it up if you give me slightly more notice.

~~I hope it’s sooner than later.~~

 

A

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair,

 

In my line of work one must learn to find amusement where one can.  I laugh in the face of danger.  So I am laughing all of the time.  Do you see? 

It is always difficult to learn that those whom you trust are not worthy, but this is life.  Better to find out while you still draw breath. 

I have not left you yet, my friend.  I cannot return to Antiva until the contract is fulfilled, as it would appear odd otherwise, and endanger my life as well.  No, I am here for the foreseeable future.  I am still lurking about, learning what I can, so you may continue to feel safe.  I have my eye on you.  And it is a nice view.

As to telling the truth, I have found that truth lies with the victor, since there is no one to dispute their version.  However, I am familiar with _your_ interpretation of the word, and will forgive you the insult to my character.  In fact, most of what I say is the truth.  It is easier to remember the lies when they are based in fact.  But this is not quite what you mean, no? 

If you are after the truth, friend, I will tell you this.  I never lied to Elissa.  Not once.  Not from the moment that I told her about the contract on her life.  There were times when I did not know what to say, and so said nothing.  Some might call that lying by omission.  But I did not have words to explain my feelings for her.  She was very...persistent, and eventually I poured out my heart to her. 

 

But you do not care to hear about this.  It is boring and old news. Ancient history, much like this dark, would-be-god that is wreaking havoc in Thedas.  I do not know what your attackers are thinking, making a move now.  If Corypheus succeeds, he will go after the rulers of Thedas first.  Why not leave you on your throne until he eliminates you, or the Inquisition eliminates him?  It is all so confusing. 

So you are impatient to see me again?  And in private, no less!  Alistair, I am flattered!  Although not surprised.  I am irresistible, and excellent company.  I shall allow you to pick the time and place.  I like candles and firelight, fluffy pillows, and Antivan Red.  Ideally I would prefer soft kisses on a moonlit beach, but we do not have time for this.  Alistair, I can see your blush from here, and it is adorable.

 

Zevran

 

* * *

 

 

Zevran,

 

I didn’t expect to hear back from you so soon. How are you _doing_ this? If you were a mage, I’d feel like you were using blood magic to get these letters to me so quickly. ~~Or to make me feel like this. It’s insane~~.

I didn’t mean to imply that you’re unscrupulous… only that you do not have the luxury of the truth. But I can imagine that you did with _her_ … Actually, now that you explained all that, I think _I’m_ more of a liar than you _ever_ were. I feel like an ass.

I wonder if whoever put this plot into motion thinks the Corypheus threat makes me weaker. Perhaps they think the world won’t spare the resources to find my murderer with total annihilation threatening… or maybe, as you suggested, they’re _not_ thinking. Maybe the thirst for power has addled them.

It’s strange: people always told me to be cautious—that absolute power corrupts absolutely—but I’ve never wanted anything _less_ than this. And the more supposed power I attain, the _less_ powerful I feel. It’s a little like a prison—this crown and this palace might as well be _manacles_. It strikes me as parallel to your contract, actually: you’re _bound_.

Since you’re still around, ~~I would love to see you~~ I think we should meet. I’ve secured the use of a little cabin outside of the city. It’s not _nice_ , but it’s warm and dry... and no one will look for us there. I don’t know about the pillows and whatnot… ~~don’t tempt me~~... but I have _lots_ of wine. I’ll send you the location under separate cover.

I know you might not be able to get away immediately, but I’ll be there tonight, ~~on the off-chance that you are as eager to see me as I am to see you~~ in case you want to talk strategy.

 

Yours,

Alistair

 

* * *

 

Alistair,

 

When you spoke of meeting to talk about a strategy I did not imagine to find myself pressed against the wall as the target of your charms.  I am irresistible, but perhaps the wine confused you, and you imagined I was someone else.  Forgive me, I am assuming that you are not sleeping with Anora, since it was she who took out the contract on you.  But then, assassination attempts may be some strange Ferelden foreplay I am not aware of. 

Do not worry, my friend, we will pretend it never happened.  Except for those times when I tease you about it.  We will be having a glass of wine and I will say, Alistair, do you remember that time you tried to kiss me but were too drunk to find my face?  It will be very funny and we will laugh uproariously.

On a more serious note, now that we know it is Anora’s group who took out the contract, you should decide how to proceed.  I have given you the proof.  Will you try her for treason or shall I take care of things for you?  You are my friend, and I would do this for you free of charge.  Well, maybe for another bottle of that lovely Antivan Red we had last night.  It was quite nice and went well with the cheese. 

I await your instructions. 

 

Ever your friend,

 

Zev

 

* * *

 

 

Dear Zevran,

 

Until I received your letter, I was living in a fantasy where I _dreamed_ the events of two nights ago… I am _mortified_ , obviously… I hope that you’ll forgive me. I’m sure people accidentally kiss you all the time—it’s probably just another annoyance that comes with your level of attractiveness.

For a minute, I thought you might be reciprocating, but you _weren’t_ , of course. I think we can count ourselves as _very lucky_ things didn’t escalate. That sort of thing is terribly complicating—especially considering you’re supposed to _kill_ me.

Anyway…

I am horrified about Anora. I can’t _believe_ that after this long, she still harbors such ill-will toward me. You’re right that we aren’t sleeping together—we _have_ ; we _tried_ —but never very successfully. ~~There was more passion in that _one_ ill-fated kiss than the sum of all my sexual encounters with Anora~~. So I certainly didn’t think we were _in love_ —or that we were any kind of a normal couple—but I thought we _tolerated_ each other.  And, more than anything else, I thought she cared about Ferelden. Something like this could destabilize the region enough to make us vulnerable to Orlais. And we’re still recovering from the Blight, really—I know it seems ridiculous, this many years later, but it left scars. ~~Emotionally, too~~.

I think we should talk about what to do next— _in person_. I’m worried that our letters are getting too personal—if anyone ever intercepted them, I think we’d be in trouble. ~~Also, I need to see you~~. Please let me know when and I’ll meet you back at the cottage—I’ll leave the wine at home this time… unless you _want_ a repeat of the other day… maybe you could teach me the _right_ way to seduce you? Just kidding… I can take a hint… I would like to _say_ , though… I _didn’t_ think you were ‘someone else’...

 

Yours,

Alistair

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair,

 

I was a bit confused after your last letter.  Are you… no.  I am laughing.  This is a crazy idea.  For a moment I thought perhaps you were serious, but this is not possible.  You are very funny, my friend.  It is quite the jest.

I will meet you at the cottage in three days, at the same time as before.  People might think it odd if the King disappeared again any sooner.  I have acquired a bottle of Antivan brandy and I will bring this with me.  We can enjoy it while we plan our next move.

Watch your back while I am not there to do so,

 

Zev

 

~~~~

 

Alistair,

 

I am once again confused.  Do you not like brandy?  Or are you just avoiding me?  You could have sent a note.  I drank half the bottle myself before I determined you were not coming.  I thought we had become friends.  If I have done something to offend you, Alistair, I do hope you will tell me so that I might apologize.

We still need to discuss what we are going to do about the contract and Anora.  You are in grave danger and I would like to help.

 

Zev

 

* * *

 

Dear Zevran,

 

I’m sorry I couldn’t make our meeting a few nights ago. I didn’t mean to worry you… although… I’m a little confused about _why_ you were worried. I’m _nothing_ to you, right? The idea of us together is just a _hilarious joke_ , after all...

 

_Passive aggressive… start again._

[New sheet of paper]

 

Dearest Zevran,

 

I need to be honest. When I kissed you— _tried_ to kiss you—it was only because the wine was giving me an artificial taste of bravery. I _should_ have kissed you a hundred times before that—a decade before that. But I didn’t…

...and you didn’t want me, anyway… just like I _knew_ you wouldn’t.

 

[illegible]

 

_This is ridiculous. Don’t grovel, Al._

[New sheet of paper]

 

Z,

 

I had to leave court unexpectedly. I apologize for not meeting you. I’m sure you were _fine_ without me, though. I’ve had some time to think and I want to handle Anora myself. Go back to Antiva. I don’t need you here anymore.

Thank you for everything. It was _illuminating_.

 

A

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair,

 

I must confess that when your last note came directing me to return to Antiva I was wounded.  I had thought we had begun a true friendship and was not sure what I had done to offend you.  I could not imagine what that might have been so I then wondered if the note had come from you or was, in fact, from Anora’s people. 

I snuck into your office to look for any sign that you had been kidnapped.  Imagine my surprise when I found a stack of letters addressed to me that I never received.  I will admit that I read them immediately.  All of them.  Have I told you that your penmanship is lovely?

I joke because your letters have left me confused about many things, not the least of which are my feelings about you.  I never knew how you felt.  I believed you hated me and thought me unworthy of Elissa.  You hid your jealousy well, Alistair.  I am trained to see such things, and to exploit them.  Your performance was outstanding. 

I am not sure what to say, except that I am sorry.  I would not have teased you  if I had known your attempt to kiss me was sincere.  I thought it a prank, or a jest between tipsy friends. You have given me a lot to think about. 

I would still very much like to help you with Anora.  I consider you my friend.  A good friend now, and I would hate to see something happen to you.  Will you please let me help you? 

 

Zev 

 

* * *

 

 

Zevran,

 

I can’t _believe_ you looked through my things. I would be _furious_ if I wasn’t so mortified. Obviously, I never intended for you to see those letters… the ones where I told the _truth_ … the ones where I was transparent. But now that you _have_ , I’m not sure how to proceed. I feel so exposed and hearing that you _admire_ me doesn’t help—if anything, it pours salt in the wound. What good is admiration in the place of _love_? ~~Not that I’m saying I love you… I’m not _insane_ …~~

 

[A big blob of ink]

 

I’ll meet you… I really _do_ need your help… and I know you have my best interests in mind… even if you just feel _flattered_ and not—

—not anything that _I_ feel.

I have to wonder, though… when you were worried—when you thought I’d been _abducted_. What did you feel _then_?

Tonight: after dark. Bring the brandy—we’re going to need it.

 

Alistair

 

* * *

 

 

A,

 

I believe we have a good plan.  And you are correct, we should be more careful about the content of our messages, and stick to the timeline we agreed upon.  I will rendezvous with you at the meeting place for final preparations.  Our usual time.  You bring the red.

To answer your question as honestly as I am able, I felt panicked at your abduction.  You are a good friend.  I had never even considered the thought of us being anything more.  Do you not think we might ruin things if there were something more between us?  I think about this often. 

But who knows what the Maker has planned for us.  I never would have considered that we’d even be friends.

I look forward to our next encounter.

 

Z

 

* * *

 

 

Zevran,

 

This has been the longest four days of my life. I thought I was going to _die_ —in a more serious way than I have in a decade. Based on what happened, I need to tell you everything… or at least write it down: for posterity.

Four mornings ago, before I even opened my eyes, I knew something was wrong. A smell of sweat and damp cloth hung in the air. I couldn’t quite place it, but my instincts kicked in anyway. I _knew_ I was about to be attacked.

I jumped out of bed and into the center of a group of men—five or six; I’m not sure. Suffice it to say, I wasn’t conscious long enough to count. Normally, I would have had a _chance_ , but one of them hexed me and before I knew it, I was in the back of a wagon, bound and gagged. The rest of the day is a blur. I was in and out of consciousness and then it was dark.

The next thing I remember, light was peeking in through planks of wood—it must have been morning—and then I could _hear_ it: the sea. After that, the pieces started fitting together… people speaking Antivan, the hot, sticky air… I was on a ship, headed north.

I thought about yelling—about _demanding_ some answers—but I knew it wouldn’t help. Instead, I bided my time and pretended to be asleep. Unfortunately, that only worked until we were docked, at which point they decided I should be severely beaten and drugged, lest I figure out where I am or call for help.

I spent the next two days in a drug-addled stupor, bleeding and retching, haunted by hallucinations and nightmares. You were in _so_ many of them—dead or maimed. In one especially vivid one, I was cradling your body against my chest as you looked up unseeingly. Just the memory makes my stomach turn.

...and then you were _there_ —not hurt or bleeding or dead—but _right there_ , in front of me, unlocking the cell. You dragged me down the hall and outside until we were trudging through sand. I remember what it felt like against my cheek. You must have stumbled and dropped me—I couldn’t even imagine lifting my head, let alone walking.

You probably didn’t know I could hear you, but I _could_. And what you said—those were the words that kept me going. I knew I had to _live_.

Eventually, I came to—when I woke up, you were asleep in a chair across the room. I think you tried to stay up all night, but you must have been _so_ tired—dragging me all over the place was backbreaking, I’m sure. I’m not implying that you’re not fit—you _definitely_ are—I just weigh a lot. I tried to sneak across the room and out the door before you woke up, but you caught me—you grabbed me by the wrist before I could reach the doorknob.

Do you remember what you said? _I_ probably always will… “I did not drag you all the way out here just to have you fall down the stairs and die concussed.”

You smirked up at me. It’s funny—that’s an expression you often wear—but that particular morning, it wasn’t filled with hubris; it wasn’t the prelude to a joke. It was as if every emotion you usually keep locked away was leaking through—fear, worry, relief and… maybe something like admiration. I know I said admiration wasn’t worth anything. I _regret_ that.

Now you’re off somewhere—chasing down these assailants. And I’m here—back at home in my own bed. Anyway… Zev… I just want to say, _thank you_. ...and please come back… _to me_.

 

Yours,

Alistair

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair,

 

I am so very glad that you are feeling better.  When I found you, I was not sure how extensively you were hurt.  It was rather worrisome.  Truly, more so than I would have expected.  

I must apologize for my clumsiness.  We were both covered in so much blood that you slipped right through my grasp and tumbled onto the beach.  It is a good thing sand is so soft.  But you do not weigh a lot, Alistair.  Well, you do, but you are quite tall, and every inch of you is all muscle.  Even in your injured state, I could tell.  Your physique has not suffered in the ten years that have passed.  I recall evenings on the road, bathing in streams to clean off the darkspawn blood.  You in the water to your hips, small rivulets of water running down your bare chest, disappearing into the current.  You had a marvelous body.  I know you will blush at this, but it is nothing to be ashamed of.

I do not recall any words of comfort that I may have said to you, although I am glad that you found them so.  I value our newfound friendship. I enjoy spending time with you.  You have a marvelously sweet view of the world which I find refreshing.  And I like hearing the sound of your voice.  It is soothing.

I see that you are trying to tempt me with thoughts of you writing to me from your bed.  I do not know what you wear to sleep, but I do not wear anything, and so I am imagining you writing your very serious diplomatic correspondences in nothing but a very serious look.  The one you have when you are thinking very deeply.  It is quite adorable. 

Perhaps when you are fully recovered we might discuss next steps.  There are some very real threats that must be discussed if you are to remain safe.  The first of which is the person behind this latest plot.  You know she must be dealt with.  Are you prepared to take the necessary steps?

I look forward to seeing you again, my dear Alistair.  Antivan brandy awaits.

 

Zev

 

* * *

 

Zevran,

 

I’m sorry I worried you… I was rather worried for _myself_ , actually… but I guess I didn’t have to be: you were there for me.

The beach comment was not a _critique_ on your ability to support heavy objects… I just _remember_ the sand, while I remember _so little_. It felt like an anchor—something real and tangible to hold onto in the midst of everything. But thank you for the compliment—I train pretty hard. And, to your other point, I try _not_ to be dressed if I can help it. What’s the point of looking like this if I can’t ever see it? I may or may not be dressed _right now_. ~~Also, I’m picturing you in a stream now...perfect...~~

My worldview is something I question a lot, actually. In the years immediately following the Blight, I didn’t see it as all that rosy. In fact, until a couple months ago, I felt rather listless. I think you must bring out the _best_ in me, which is quite an accomplishment, considering our current predicament. You’re right about what comes next… we have to deal with this situation. I’ll defer to you on that. Whatever you suggest, I’m in—as terrifying as that is. But when we’re _done_ with that—

Listen… Zev, you’ve seen all my letters: I’m _done_ pretending. I know you said you hadn’t even considered it, but I don’t _believe_ you… and I hope it doesn’t seem _predatory_ to come on this strong, but I _felt_ something between us. I _don’t_ think it was the adversity of the situation getting to me. I think it was _real_.

...and I think you felt it too.

If you want me to stop, I will. If you’d rather handle this situation and go home… it’s fine. Just _say_ it. ~~But I hope you don’t~~.

 

Alistair

 

* * *

 

Alistair,

 

 ~~I am~~   ~~I want~~   This is something that perhaps is best discussed face to face.  Will you meet me at the cottage tomorrow evening?  At the usual time.  We can finally drink the rest of the brandy.

Please, Alistair.  It would mean a great deal to me if you would indulge me in this. 

 

Zev

 

~~~~

 

Alistair,

 

I have just returned to my rooms and find that I am unable to sleep.  There are so many thoughts in my head, none of which I had considered before.  Yes, yes, perhaps in the first three minutes of having met you I considered them.  After all, you have a very handsome face, and a delicious body.  I was at the perfect angle to notice both right away.  But then you wanted to kill me, and while I am always game for a challenge, it seemed a bit more serious than you playing hard to get.  And then feelings developed elsewhere, and after that, I had placed you in the friendly enemy camp.  I was sure you were only tolerating my presence because of circumstances. 

But I digress.  I was telling you of my newly rekindled appreciation of you.  The kiss quite took me by surprise.  It was bold, and a bit aggressive, but in the best way.  And much to my surprise, quite masterfully executed.  I truly have misjudged you, thinking you still the inexperienced and easily flustered boy from ten years ago. 

Although you are aware from certain tell-tale signs which I did not wish to hide, I quite enjoyed our kiss.  When you pulled me against your chest and looked at me as though you would devour me right there, I was overcome with desire for more.  I had not considered that you had such a side to you.  Although in hindsight that was my mistake.  You are a highly skilled warrior and quite aggressive on the field of battle.  It usually translates to _other_ things.  Things which I have suddenly begun to consider.  Frequently.  Much to my surprise.

I hope you were not offended when I asked to move slowly.  I know it is not my usual way, but I would like to preserve our friendship while we see if there is more.

I will end here and try to sleep.  It is very late and there is much to do tomorrow.  Are you sure you are alright moving forward alone?  I would be there if it would help.  This is not an easy thing for you, I know.  But you are strong Alistair.  You can do this.  You have faced and helped defeat an Archdemon.  You can do this too.

Good night Alistair.  I will dream of your sweet kisses and firm buttocks, and rest easy.

 

Zev

 

* * *

  

Dear Zevran,

 

I wish you hadn’t gone back to your room at all… although, you wouldn’t have slept any better here.

I know I pushed you. I’m sorry— _a little_ —but mostly I’m just _relieved_ that you’re finally admitting something is happening between us. Andraste… I thought I was losing my mind.

But now that something _has_ happened… now that we’re in some kind of transitional phase… I’m left wondering what’s _next_. I know I should be concentrating on the ever-present danger. I know I was just in _actual_ peril last week… but you’re filling my mind from edge to edge. I’m lying here… and all I can think about is that you _should_ be next to me…

I can picture the whole thing: We’re face to face, just thin white linens separating us. I run my hand up and down your side while you kiss a line from my lips to my clavicle. I wrap an arm around your waist and drag you toward me across the sheets. Our legs slot together like puzzle pieces and we find ourselves involuntarily curling, grinding—struggling—to get closer. You drag your fingertips across the expanse of my back and I bury my mouth in the crook of your neck...

 

[a swiggling line of ink]

 

...Maker… this is bad idea… It’s already painful.

Is it _terrible_ that I hope you’re in pain when you read this too? Is it _horrible_ that I’m picturing what you’d have to _do_ in that scenario? Is it _awful_ that I hope it makes you all the more eager to see me again?

 

Contact me soon.

Alistair

 

P.S. I know the world is falling apart and I might be dead tomorrow… but isn’t that all the more reason to take chances?

 

P.P.S. You seem preoccupied with this idea of ‘ _remaining friends_ ’... I want to assure you… as much as I want to do _things_ … those ones I mentioned… it isn’t _about_ that. I know that might sound terrifying—it sounds terrifying to me—but I mean it. So, first and foremost… I suppose… you’re my friend. ~~Although I hope we're much more someday.~~

 

~~~~

 

Zevran,

 

That went about as well as you’d expect. There was a significant amount of shouting and threatening… then some manufactured tears… and here we are: Anora has officially been exiled. I should have done this 10 years ago.

Although… if I’d done that, we wouldn’t have had an opportunity to reconnect. So… maybe this is for the best.

There’s just one unfinished item on my end… when can I _see_ you?

Contact me as soon as you’re able. ~~Not that I’m desperate~~.

 

Yours,

Alistair

 

* * *

 

 

Cariño,

 

By the time you receive this letter I will be on a ship heading to Antiva.  I truly wish that I could have stayed longer, but duty calls.  For both of us.  I find I am looking forward to the voyage though, when I will have no work to do, and can spend my days thinking about you and the delicious things we did together.  You have a beautiful body, Alistair.  I enjoyed getting to know it so well, and look forward to learning all the things that you love.  I would touch and taste you every night if I could, make love with you until the sky began to lighten and the birds began to sing their morning songs.  You continue to amaze and delight me, Alistair.  Such passion!  And such a tease too!  Your fingers are quite nimble, and would very much like it if you demonstrated that again when I return.

Would you like to know what I am planning to do to you when I return?  Yes.  Of course you would.  I am thinking about velvet.  Black would look wonderful against your skin.  I would tie your hands and feet to the bedposts, caress you with my lips and fingertips, touch every inch of you, taste you in the most intimate of places, sweetly torture you with my tongue until you are begging me for release.  Then I will crawl up your gorgeous body and straddle your hips, tease you until you beg for me.  I will squeeze you tightly, as you slide deeper, filling me like you did last night, so slowly you will think that surely you will lose your mind.  When you do not think you can wait any longer I will roll my hips the way you like, push you over the edge, hear you shout my name as your body shakes, throbbing inside me.  You will feel so good, and I will not be able to restrain myself.  I will quickly ride you to my own orgasm, and fall against your gorgeous chest, panting but so wonderfully sated.  Once I have caught my breath I will release your restraints and take you in my arms and kiss you softly, press myself against you and stroke your hair until we fall asleep in each other’s arms.

I miss you already, Alistair.  That is something I never anticipated saying, but it makes it no less true.  You are sweet, and desirable, and almost as irresistible as I am.  I jest.  ~~No one else is as irresistible~~.  You are quite tempting and I am amazed that I did not see this before.  ~~Could it have been all that talk of killing me~~?  Sorry, I know I promised to stop teasing you about that.  But in hindsight it is quite amusing, given our current status.  

I will be in Antiva in a few weeks and promise I will write to you on the same day that we arrive.  I am hoping to have many letters from you waiting for me so that I will have them to read and miss you less. 

Until I see you again, please remain safe, and trust no one.  It is a good habit to practice.

 

Yours, truly,

 

Zev

 

* * *

 

 

Zevran,

 

I’ve read your letter several times. I keep getting— _distracted_ —about half-way through. When are you coming back?

You know… ~~in re-reading for the 10th or 12th time~~ it occurred to me that we’d be pretty sticky at the end of that encounter. I think maybe it should extend to a bath… I have the loveliest free-standing tub in my chambers. I had it specially made to be extra long and extra deep. (I realize that sounds like a euphemism now that I’ve said it… I wonder if _that’s_ why the craftsmen kept laughing...)

Anyway… what if first thing in the morning, we wake to the sound of bells? Every morning I hear them through my bedroom windows. At this time of year, the air is so fresh and clean in the morning—the windows will definitely be open. It makes a chill—your skin puckers under a particularly strong gust, enough to wake you up.

When you come to, you peek from under an eyelid and take an inventory of the room. Once you realize where you are, you also discover I’m completely trapping you against the mattress—we’re chest to chest, my lips just grazing the edge of your jaw. You can feel my breath on your neck. The room is filled with evidence of all the debaucherous things you did to me last night. You smile to yourself—a silent congratulations.

The minute you start to move—to try to get out from under me—I pin you in place.

“I bet you thought I was asleep?” I’ll say.

You’ll laugh and roll your eyes because you think I’m a little childish… and I _am_ , so it’s fair.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I’ll ask.

“To clean this ridiculous mess off of me,” you’ll say.

We’ll laugh and roll and I’ll kiss you a few times for good measure… and then we’ll look at the tub. It’s dwarven-made: self-filling and heating. It’s like heaven. You just have to touch a rune.

So I’ll hop out of bed and fill the tub. In the interim, you'll discover you're already _wanting_.

I'll tease you—I can't help it—about how you _must_ be getting addicted to me…

 

[ink splashed across the page.]

 

Maker… I have this aide who comes in without knocking. I’m going to have to fire him. Where was I? _Oh yeah_...

So… To show me who is addicted to whom, you'll push the covers off and touch yourself.

Despite the rapidly filling tub, I'll freeze to watch you—it’s a _reflex_ , more than a desire—mouth watering and fingers trembling.

With an audience, I think you're probably even sexier. I ~~f such a thing is possible.~~ You throw your head back and groan, gripping a pillow with your free hand.

Meanwhile, _I’m dying_. Before I know what I'm doing, I dive into the bed with you.

We groan and coil and grind until we're sweating and breathless.

Then you look over my shoulder. “Cariño, the tub!” It's about to spill. _~~Of course~~_ ~~… because being around you is painfully flustering~~.

We _laugh_ —what else is there to do?

I jump out of bed and hit the rune just in time to keep the water from spilling over the edge.

“That's _definitely_ going to overflow with both of us in it,” you'll say.

“Then maybe you'd rather just skip it?” I smirk. I _try_ to play it cool, but it’s impossible… ~~you’re so good at it. I’m just learning~~.

When we get inside, I find myself lying against your chest. You run your fingers through my hair while I pant and whine.

When I can't take it, I turn around; water sloshes over the sides of the tub.

You look at me like I'm prey.

 

[A few big ink blots.]

 

Maker, this is ridiculous. ~~That guy is not only fired. He’s exiled~~. You get the idea… _things_ happen. It’s great. ~~Perfect, even~~.

_When are you coming back?_

I’ll save your space tonight.

 

Yours,

Alistair

 

P.S. If anyone finds this letter I’m going to have to leave the country. Do you think I’d like Antiva?

 

P.P.S. Do you think my staff would be suspicious if I had locks installed? I mean… you’re always telling me to be _careful_ …

 

~~~~

 

Dearest,

 

I only wrote to you yesterday, but I just received the strangest request and I wanted to tell you right away. Inquisitor Lavellan has asked me to come to Skyhold… something is _happening_ to the wardens.

To be honest, I felt it already—a nagging prickle at the edges of my awareness; a song that carries me from sleeping to waking. Until the Inquisitor’s letter, I thought it was _The Calling_. I was going to ignore it as long as possible. ~~I wanted to spend as much time with you as I could...~~ I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.

It _isn’t_ The Calling, though. ...that’s what I learned. It’s _fake_ —conjured with blood magic and somehow channeled through that imposter god. I know I should I be elated—I’m not dying… _yet_ —but instead I’m terrified. Whatever the Inquisitor wants, it _won’t_ be safe—I’m sure of that.

Nevertheless, I _have_ to go. Once a warden, always a warden—a prince or a bastard, a king or a drunk, I’m one of them. I owe them this.

I just wanted to tell you that I’m leaving… in case something should happen to me… I want you to know how much you mean to me. ~~How much I...~~

Be _well_ , Darling.

 

Love,

Alistair

 

* * *

 

Dearest Alistair,

 

You are adorable.  Have I told you this?  You make me laugh with your observations.  But I do believe a lock on your door will serve several purposes, and I approve.  You have such excellent ideas.   Like the enticing picture you have painted.  Waking up to your handsome face, being ravished by you, it would be a wonderful way to begin the day.  I do hope that someday it comes to pass. 

Unfortunately, it will not be in the near future.  I find that in my absence all critical decisionmaking was put aside to await my return.  I have quite the pile of work that I must sort through before I can once again be by your side.  For now your beautiful letters and the memory of our time together will have to see me through. 

You will be happy to know that I have settled the issue with the contract on your life.  Now that Anora is to be exiled for treason and the remainder of her group has mysteriously disappeared, ~~you are welcome~~ , there is no one to pay the contract fee.  So it has been archived.

I have given up a substantial fee for you, cariño, so I believe that you are in my debt, and I expect repayment.  We can negotiate the terms in person, perhaps over a bottle or two of Antivan Red, next to a nice fire, in a comfortable bed...  I believe you know what I am saying.  I promise I will be gentle during the negotiations, although I do not promise to play fair.

Alas, back to work.  I think of you often, and miss your sweet smile.  Be safe.

 

Zev

 

PS:  Before I could even send my letter I have received your latest.  Have you not already given enough to Thedas?  Must it always be you who comes to the rescue of the world?  I did not save you from a plot against your life to have you throw it away fighting at the front of this war.  At least, not without me at your back.  I will not rest until I hear that you are safe and back in Denerim.  If I must, I will follow you and fight at your side, for I will not be left behind, safe in Antiva. If I do not hear from you within the week I will board a ship and sail for Ferelden.  I will not lose you, too.

 

* * *

 

Dearest,

 

I hope you haven’t set out yet. I know it’s been nine days… so you _might_ have… but I’m fine—I didn’t make it to the meeting in time.

Two days into our trip, we ran into resistance: a huge group attacked us—they were dressed like bandits, but they were too well organized. ~~I keep wondering if you sent them yourself to stop me~~. I lost three members of the kingsguard almost instantly. They were highly trained, too, Zev: they’d been with me for several years each. Next thing I knew, I was bleeding—broken ribs and blood pooling on the ground at my side. It took a whole day to find a healer who could mend me and another several days to stand up. Now, I’m finally back in Denerim, but I’m still not _well_.

This is compounded by the guilt I feel—I didn’t make it and I learned just this morning that Stroud was lost in the fade through a series of dubious circumstances. That could have been me—it _should_ have been.

The only thing that has been keeping me going is the level of alarm you displayed at the prospect of my demise. It’s the first time you’ve said that so explicitly… that you can’t _lose_ me…

As I mentioned, I’m not particularly healthy right now… but I need to see you. _Please_ come soon… or tell me the process by which I might visit you? I assume I’d need some kind of secret map with X’s on it in order to find your lair… passwords to whisper in busy market streets… disguises… _could be fun_.

Either way, I’m eagerly awaiting your next letter.

 

Love,

Alistair

 

P.S. Since I can do nothing but lie in bed… I might re-read your _other_ letter two or three more times… not to be crass… ~~actually, the idea of holding each other until we fall asleep is my favorite part~~.

 

* * *

  

Alistair,

 

Are you trying to kill me?  This way you have of reassuring me that you are fine, by listing out the injuries that you have sustained and the delay in finding a healer, it is not very comforting.  In fact, it has the opposite effect.  Are you aware of this?  I would tell you that you need to work on this skill, but I do not wish to encourage you to seek out more opportunities for such levels of injury. 

I was unaware of your martyr complex, and this is something else we will have to discuss.  While it is unfortunate that anyone was lost in the Fade, I cannot imagine a scenario in which it should have been you instead of Stroud.  Yes, he was the last leader of the remaining Grey Wardens.  I do not care.  And there are still others in Orlais.  There is only one you, Alistair.  And I will not lose you, although you seem to have this very bad habit of being in the middle of life-threatening circumstances.  At least you are fit enough to jest, and this helps to ease my concern somewhat. 

Alistair, it has been a long time since I have felt concern of this intensity, and I am not sure what to do with it.  I will be honest with you, since you are my friend, and please stop frowning when I use this word.  It is not your best look.  It is also not so bad being my friend.  And I did not say that was all you were.  Which is exactly my point.  I do not know what you are to me anymore.  Yes, we are friends.  At least I believe we are. And we are lovers.  We have history between us, some of it even pleasant.  But you continue to defy me and refuse to stay in the role that I imagine for you.  Or should I say you continue to exceed it? 

Braska!  Alistair, tell me truthfully.  Have you ever thought that you were betraying Elissa’s memory by pursuing something… something more between us?  For I know the something more is what you want.  And there is part of me that would like this as well… But I keep feeling disloyal.  I swore I would love no other but her, even though she did not require this of me.  I have kept that vow for ten years.  But now…  I do not know what to do, and this is the truth.  I am afraid to feel anything more for you, although I do not believe I have much say in this matter.  It feels rather inevitable.  There is part of me that does not mind this, and has me asking these things.  It is also the part that had me book passage on a ship to Ferelden, against my better instincts. We leave tomorrow.   It will be weeks before I arrive, and perhaps by then I will have some answers.

I have missed you Alistair.  Very much.  Please do not find any more trouble while I am not in a position to aide you.  Although you seem to attract trouble like flowers attract bees.  Try to remain beeless for at least a few more weeks.

 

Zev

 

* * *

 

 

Dear Zevran,

 

It feels inevitable?

I know you said a lot of things in your letter… but that one word stuck out: _Inevitable…_

It feels inevitable to me too. I’m starting to wonder if I’m even in control of my actions anymore. I _can’t_ stop thinking about you. I _can’t_ stop scaring you. I can’t stop _pushing_ you to make this something real.

I just _can’t stop_.

 

[something illegible]

 

I’m sorry that I worried you—again. In thinking about my letter… I guess it _was_ kind of alarming. But I’m alive… and I’m okay… and I can’t believe you’re coming here.

When you arrive, I know we have a lot to talk about… but consider this: You knew Elissa better than anyone… but _I_ knew her too… and I _know_ , for a fact, that she would never have wanted you to deny yourself something like this… something that could be great. ~~Something that _might_ be love~~. She would have wanted you to be free and wild and _happy_ , Zev.

...and I think I could give you that.

It’s a little silly that I wrote all this down… you won’t get it on the ship… but at least I’ve said it somewhere. So when I have to say it to your face, maybe I won’t be so terrified?

 

Yours,

Alistair

 

* * *

 

 

 ~~Alistair,~~   Cariño,

 

I feel a bit silly writing this letter to you since I will not be sending it.  I suppose I will tell you these things myself when I arrive.  I have had weeks aboard ship to think about you, our situation, my feelings for Elissa, and for you.  I hope you do not mind that I have discussed the circumstances with my dear friend Isabela.  She captains this ship, and we have spent many late nights drinking and talking.  I promise this is all that we have done, do not worry.  She is a good listener, and says what she thinks without softening the words.  This is important when telling people things they do not wish to hear.  I mentioned to her about the stack of letters that you wrote to me but did not send, and she suggested that I might try this as well, to work through my thoughts and feelings.  I do not think this will help, but it can do little harm.

It will come as no surprise to you that Isabela thinks I am a great fool.  On this particular occasion it is because I am, in her words, hiding behind the memory of my dead lover so that I will not be hurt again.  Do you see now what I mean about her?  

But no amount of denial will make her words less true.  You see, Elissa is was not the first.  I lost someone very dear to me before I even met her.  I say lost, but killed is a better word.  Her death was my fault.  I do not tell you this for sympathy or drama.  She died because of  my inaction and unquestioning loyalty to the wrong people.  It is why I bid on the contract on Elissa and went to Ferelden.  It was a suicide mission.  I had hoped to die.  But Elissa did not kill me, and eventually she helped me to heal, and we fell in love.  Something I never thought would happen again.  And then she sacrificed herself to save Thedas from the Blight.  And although it was not my fault that time, it hurt no less. 

Alistair, do you see?  Twice I have loved, and twice they have died too soon.  And now there is you, mi amor.  And I am afraid that I am cursed, and this will happen again.  Isabela assures me that this is not the case.  She is Rivaini and I suppose would know these things.  It would not matter anyway.  It is already too late.  I can fool myself no more.

You also deserve to know the truth, and I will say the words to you when I see you.  As to the other parts of this letter, I will tell you those stories in time.   But the most important thing we must discuss is our future.  You have demonstrated an inability to ensure your own safety so I will take it upon myself to protect your life.  I will not lose you anytime soon, cariño.  I do not know how I will extricate myself from The Crows, but together we should be able to find an answer.

Just a few more days, mi amor, and I will be with you, and I am not sure that I will be able to let you go again.  I suppose we will do what we must, as we have always done.

Until I see your handsome face and kiss your soft lips, please be safe.

Con todo mi corazón, soy tuyo.

 

Zev

 

* * *

 

 

Dearest,

 

I want to remember this moment. You’re _here_ —in my bed just across the room. I’m watching the sun stream in through the window onto your bare chest. You look… like something I never _dreamed_ I could have.

 

[blot of ink]

 

Oh… I thought you were waking up. You moved suddenly. I wonder if you miss me… alone in that big bed.

I know we still have trials ahead of us: the Crows, for one… but I know we can do this. I believe in us. On that point… I’ve started making a list of possible ways to get you out of this. (Some of them are kind of ridiculous…)

 

  1. I go to Antiva and tell them I need you—I’ll pay them off. Alternatively, I’ll go beserk and murder everyone who tries to come between us. ~~I’m a little obsessed with you~~.
  2. We fake your death so that no one ever comes looking.
  3. I abscond from the kingdom and assume a new identity so we can live together in Antiva. A little house by the ocean—warm breezes, soft waves, a garden out back… ~~children~~.



 

[doodle of a sunrise over a calm sea]

 

We still have a lot to talk about… but if you _love_ me, I know we can do it.

I think you’re waking up.

 

Love,

Alistair

 

* * *

 

 

Mi amor,

 

There is something that I must take care of this morning.  A contract.  It is how I managed to leave Antiva so quickly without drawing much attention.  It will not take long and I will return this evening.  Perhaps I will even bring you a surprise.  I want to wake you and tell  you that I love you, but you look peaceful and I do not wish to disturb your slumber.  You earned your rest quite thoroughly last evening, cariño. 

Try not to let the nobles upset you today.  When they are crying to you about some tax they find unfair, or who insulted their best horse, think of my soft lips kissing your neck, or the way my hands caress your bare skin.  I often think about how beautiful you look as you find your release, your face suffused with rapture, body arching towards mine.  You are perfection, mi amor.  And I cannot wait to return to you this evening and make love to you once again.

You are always in my thoughts.

 

Con todo mi corazón,

 

Zev

 

* * *

 

 

Zevran,

 

I just re-read your letter and something stuck out to me: you’re keeping me a secret. I’m not upset about it—I’m just _noticing_. This observation is spurring me to ask some questions:

Does _no one_ in the crows have a partner? Is it taboo? Too dangerous? Too much of a liability?

More personally, are you embarrassed of me? Am I ruining some kind of image you’ve cultivated? I know how I must seem when we’re together, but I can be anything you need me to be. I’ve had enough time in a position of power to know when a professional facade is appropriate.

Maker… I’m in the territory of letters that I’m not going to give you again. I don’t want you to feel pressured. ...but we promised to be honest with each other now… so maybe…

 

[some scratched out words]

 

Additional question: if you’re finishing this contract today, does that mean you’re going to _leave_?

It’s amazing how quickly things can change—attitudes, habits. Just a few months ago, I never would have expected or anticipated any of this… and now I feel so _dependent_.

If I’m honest with myself, I _know_ I care about you more than you care about me. How could it _not_ be that way. You’ve said it yourself: you had never even _considered_ this—me. Meanwhile, I’ve been holding this torch… I don’t want to be in this subservient role. It feels dangerous. It feels like I don’t have any _power_. It feels like you're going to hurt me.

Maybe you _should_ go.

 

Alistair

 

P.S. I have to go to Orlais… I’ve been putting it off for ages in anticipation of you being here… but I don’t know what the _point_ is anymore. I don’t know when I’ll be back.

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair, mi corazón, mi amor,

 

No one in their right mind would be ashamed of you.  There is nothing to be ashamed of!  You are the brilliant sun, and the clear sky, and everything good in this world and the next.  You are kind, and sweet, and all that I am not. 

As I feared would happen, I have hurt you.  And for this I am truly sorry. 

Your question is not far from the mark, Alistair.  It is no longer forbidden to have a relationship if you are a Crow, I have seen to that, but old habits die hard.  Many active assassins still forswear relationships, keeping to dalliances of the flesh only.  They do not wish to have their lover as a weapon for an enemy to wield.  Although most in the brotherhood do not know that I am the Guildmaster, there are those that do, and I did not wish to make you a target for their ambition. 

 

But in my efforts to keep you safe, to not lose you as I lost Rinna and Elissa, I have hurt you and pushed you away.  And I suppose that is the price I must pay.  I will not let them kill you Alistair. 

You were right to leave.  I am not worthy of you.  I will be gone by the time this letter reaches you.  Without you there is no reason to stay.

Be well, Alistair, and know that I will always love you.  Perhaps someday we will meet again, mi amor. 

 

Zev

 

* * *

 

 

Zevran,

 

When I wrote to you before I was feeling vulnerable and angry. I deeply regret the way I left—it was childish. I knew almost instantly that I should come back, but the plans for this diplomatic action were already put in motion. Now that I’m home and I’ve discovered you’re _gone_ , I wish I’d fought harder, though—demanded we turn around immediately.

Zevran, I feel like a piece of my _soul_ is missing. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true. I can’t even _breathe_ properly—the weight of losing you is crushing me.

And… Love… I didn’t mean for it to be a _test_ , but I’m a little surprised ~~and hurt~~ that you didn’t fight for me. I didn’t think about it when I was writing the letter… but now that I’m _back_ … and I’ve read both yours and mine dozens of times… I realize I expected something different. I expected you to tell me not to go. I hoped you would stop me. I wanted you to change my mind.

And, to be honest, I would have lived in secret—I still _will_ if that’s what you want. I would do _anything_ for you. 

You know what the worst part is? I did this to myself. I drove you away with my insatiable need for reassurance, with my self-deprecating attitude, with my pervasive melancholy. And now I’m left here—alone—to stew in my own misery… to lament… to _grieve_ you.

 

I don’t know how to go on.

Alistair

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair,

 

I do not know what to say.  Shall I tell you that I wept tears of longing and frustration as I sailed home?  Would  you like to know that when your letter arrived I felt elation and dread at the same moment, afraid of what the letter would say?  Are you longing to hear that I love you with all of my heart?  That is what you wanted, is it not?  But then in your ignorance you tossed me aside like poor table scraps, and now accuse me of not fighting hard enough for you. 

 

What is it that you want Alistair?  Do you even know?   How many ways would you like to stomp on my heart, grind it under your bootheel?  The saddest part is that I still love you, even now, and would gladly let you break my heart once more if it meant that I could see your sweet smile again, and have you look at me as you did when i first called you mi amor. 

You did not drive me away with any of those things you mentioned.  You told me to go, and I cannot refuse you anything, so I left.  

I miss you, Alistair.  So terribly that I fear my heart will burst with the ache.  But I want you to be happy, and I do not think that would happen if you are with me.  I cannot be with you as someone else could, and I believe no matter what your heart may whisper, your mind knows this to be true.

Be well, cariño, and know that I will love you always.

 

Zev

 

* * *

 

Zevran,

 

You were right—I don’t know what I want—but I’m sure it isn’t _this_. This whole time I’ve been so afraid of getting hurt that I hurt _you_ instead.

There is so much I need to tell you:

First, and foremost, I _love_ you. I have never been more sorry in my life than I am now. I can’t believe I hurt you the way that I did. I pushed you away because I was hurting and afraid, but that was the exact time I should have pulled you closer. No matter what else happens, please know that I’ve learned from this mistake. I know now… if I ever see you again, ~~Maker, please let me see you just one more time~~ , I am going to tell you what you mean to me. I’m going to wrap you in my arms and never let you go. I’d like to see anyone _try_ to come between us.

Secondly, I’ve run over the Crow scenario a hundred times. Even if we _can_ be together technically—we can’t live in the same country. You’re needed there and I’m needed here. Responsibility is crushing in on us.

This is such a mess.

The messiest part by far, though, is that we’re not together. If I hadn’t been so irrational, we could at least make the most of what little time we have. I’m thinking about the nights we spent together. The way you breathe when you’re asleep. The look on your face first thing in the morning. ~~Maker, this _hurts_.~~

I’ve ruined everything… but I won’t let it stay this way. I don’t care what I have to do—I’m going to fix this. My heart and my mind are in agreement, Zevran: I love you—always.

 

Alistair

 

~~~~

 

Dear Zevran,

 

I can’t sleep—at all, ever. I don’t know how to solve this—any of it—but I do know _one_ thing: I need to see you. By the time you receive this letter, I’ll be on my way.

It’s a crazy idea, I know. It’s not safe, I know. I’m supposed to be careful, I know. ~~It might be a diplomatic incident, I know~~. But Zev… I need you.

 

Love,

Alistair

  

* * *

 

 

I cannot believe you are here.  You are a fool, you gorgeous, sweet man.  Meet me tonight at the tavern where you stayed with Varric and Isabela.  It is still a safe house that I use, and the innkeeper is trustworthy.  I promise that while you are in Antiva this time, there will be no side trips to The Archive or Velabanchel. 

But I cannot promise that you will not be in danger… from me.  I am going to show you just how much I have missed you, mi amor.  Many, many times.  I do hope you were not planning to sleep much.

 

Until this evening, cariño.

 

Zev

 

* * *

 

 

Dearest,

 

I think this was the best weekend of my life. It easily surpasses becoming king or defeating the archdemon… or even all the other weekends with you… do you know why? Because this time I _know_ —you're mine ...and I'm never letting you go.

I didn't know it was possible to be _this_ in love.

I know it's going to be hard—being apart so much—but I know we can do it. Particularly because you've promised to write—I do hope you'll be graphic in your details. I'm going to try not to be bashful too—in fact, let me show you how un-bashful I am right now:

Last night, you were intoxicating. When I first saw you in the inn I was already reduced to a puddle of hormones and want. I know that no one knows who you are—your title or accomplishments—but I could swear they responded like they did. Everyone we encountered, however brief, spoke to you with bowed heads and in fervent whispers. Your every gesture radiated power and grace. I have never seen anyone so commanding.

The moment you closed the door behind us, I couldn't stop myself. I know I was sort of aggressive… (I'm sorry?)... but I couldn't seem to stop. My favorite thing, though, is that you pushed back with equal force. I've never felt such parity in a lover—or a person at all. I felt like we were of one mind and one body.

 

[spilled ink]

 

I _could_ let you think that that inkblot is a result of the rocking of this ship… but it isn't. Last night you asked me to tell you what I like—to _say_ the words, not whisper them. And I promised you I would… so… Darling, I'm aching for you. Sitting here in this tiny cabin, writing by candlelight, I'm struggling. I've stroked myself between every sentence and I'm desperate to come, but I keep putting it off because I want every orgasm I have from now to be _yours_ —inside you or along the skin of your stomach or filling the back of your throat.

 

[handwriting becoming increasingly difficult to read]

 

Regardless of our physical distance from each other, it's still yours… I'm thinking about yesterday morning...on my knees in front of you—your strong arms the only thing holding me up as I came across the sheets. And what you said, when I finally collapsed, complaining about what a mess I must be… ‘I love you more now than I ever have.’

Maker, I'm probably about to sink the entire ship—a bolt of lightning will strike me and the whole crew. (Or so my chantry days would tell me.) If this is wrong, I don't want to be right.

I miss you. I have to go… _handle_ this.

I'll write to you more tomorrow.

 

Love,

Alistair

 

~~~~

 

Dear Zevran,

 

I hope you will be sufficiently scandalized by my first letter. I had intended to send it straight away, but I need to tell you something more serious:

I have an idea: the craziest of plans. And before you dismiss it, hear me out… the Crows are not part of the government of Antiva… officially… but they are party to 90% of the country’s activities. Wouldn't it make sense to appoint a Crow to a position of political power? For instance, an Ambassador to Ferelden?

If we could convince those who make decisions to agree to this plan, we could be together _more_ than once a year—we could be together almost permanently. I know we still couldn't be as demonstrative as either of us would like… ~~we can't get married or have children~~ … but we could be _together._

Please Darling, tell me whom to ask, bribe, or beg. I will do anything to make this work.

 

All my love,

Alistair

 

P.S. I realize this second letter is significantly more important than the first… but I hope you'll respond in kind to both of them… for selfish reasons. _Love you._

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair,

 

Your idea is actually brilliant.  If we put a twist on it then their majesties and the brotherhood will each think they are getting the better of the deal, and there could be support from both sides.  Mi amor, you are amazing! 

But to more interesting topics, I did not know you had a dominance fantasy, mi amor.    You also seemed to enjoy being dominated.  This intrigues me, and I believe we must investigate it further.  There are so many delicious thoughts in my head right now, it is making me incredibly aroused.  You, pinned beneath me as I slowly thrust into your warm, tight body, you holding my hands above my head with just one of yours, showing me your strength as your mouth teases across my body, kissing and biting and sucking anywhere you can reach.  Your mouth is a gift from the Maker cariño.  You could put the courtesans to shame with your skill.  And that little growl you do just before you come, it goes straight through me every time.  But the thought of you touching yourself, and then repeatedly denying your release… I am hard just from reading that, Alistair, and cannot wait to be with you again.

I will think about your solution to our situation, and present it to both parties.  With luck I will have an answer for us soon.

Now I must close this letter and retire to my bed.  There are several fantasies of you, and certain parts of my anatomy, that require my attention.  I will be thinking and dreaming of you always, mi amor.

 

Soy tuyo,

 

Zev

 

* * *

 

 

Darling,

 

This morning, while I was listening to two farmers yell at each other for half an hour, an urgent messengered letter arrived—from the Antivan government. It was extremely long—a dozen pages at least, explaining all the intricacies of how our nations have partnered together in the past and the benefits of a stronger alliance. The crux of it, of course, was that I’ll be receiving a new Ambassador on an ongoing, semi-permanent basis.

I can’t _believe_ our plan worked.

According to this, you’re coming imminently. If I don’t hear back from you, I guess that means you might be on your way already, although I hope this letter reaches you before you leave. I want you to know how happy I am. And… I want you to know how much I appreciate this. You’re changing your whole life— _for me_. I’ve never known _anyone_ who would do that.

When you get here, we’ll have to sort out the details, of course. I’m getting you a house. It’s on the outskirts of the city; it has a dock. I think it even has space for a little garden. I hope you like it. I also hope you don’t sleep there very much, except for those nights when I can sneak away from the castle to join you.

Be safe. See you soon.

 

Love,

Alistair

 

* * *

 

Mi amor,

 

I received your letter this morning and we set sail in an hour, so I am sending this note by raven. 

You are worth leaving behind my beautiful Antiva, Alistair.  Becoming Guildmaster was never about the power, it was about the change.  Making things better for people, the way Elissa did for me, and for everyone she met.  I have accomplished much in ten years, and set the guild on a good path.  I have done what I set out to do, so it is no great hardship to walk away.  Please never doubt that.  I have made this decision for us, cariño.  And it is the right one.  I feel it in my bones. 

I love you, Alistair.  You are the light in my life and I would cross a thousand seas to be with you.  One little ocean is nothing.  I shall see you in a few weeks, mi amor.  And then I will kiss your sweet lips and hold you in my arms and nothing will separate us. 

Te amo con todo lo que soy.

 

Zev

 

* * *

 

 

Dear Zevran,

 

I’m writing to you for posterity and to celebrate the fact that I never _have_ to write to you again if I don’t want to. You’re settling into your house. You said you loved it—and I think you meant it. It really suits you: a breeze off the water, lots of natural light. I’m watching you unpack a trunk. You’re being very methodical—squinting at each item and biting your lip. A piece of hair keeps falling into your eyes.

 

[splash of ink]

 

You tried to read this over my shoulder. I told you to—lovingly—knock it off.

I guess the most important thing I wanted to say to you is that I love you. And I know you already know that… but it’s more true now than it has ever been… and I’m willing to bet that it will be _truer_ every day, every week, every year, until we’re gone.

I’m so fortunate: I get to spent the rest of my life with you.

 

[scribble]

 

Okay, I guess you’re going to make it impossible to finish this letter. ~~You just bit the edge of my ear~~. At least I said all the important things.

 

Love,

Alistair

 

* * *

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

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**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [When a Crow Falls](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13724058) by [D_elfie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_elfie/pseuds/D_elfie)




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